


Side Effect

by manglekin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkward Crush, Best Friends, Cooking, Insomnia, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Medication, Pills, bros being dudes..............., gay shit, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 19:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12754371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manglekin/pseuds/manglekin
Summary: Rodney Kapernick doesn't answer the call for him to report for emergency surgery and Mello has to cover for him. He then goes to his manager's house to find out why in hell he didn't answer the phone.





	Side Effect

There was a certain eeriness about stepping into the mansion; nothing creaked and nothing gave away his entry. Rodney was probably so sound asleep that he didn’t even hear the phone ring. That was all. He wasn’t injured or dead and no one could’ve snuck into a house with a triple-locked door that he had the key to and no one else did. Mello coughed and blinked. He was always prone to assuming the worst since he had seen the worst; something Rodney was keen on snapping him out of with a snappy, annoyed remark on how idiotic he sounded. Yeah. Rodney. He was okay.   
“Rod, are you awake?” He called down one hallway, then looked to the next and found a room with the lights full on, creating a contrast of golden rays licking the blue tile from under the door. That was Rodney’s office, he recognized, the one he worked in at home- like he really needed it at all. Mello invited himself in and to his uneasiness and surprise Rodney did not so much as react to him being in the doorway. He just continued to type. “Rod. Ronnie. Kapernick. Hello?” He grabbed him by the shoulder and spun the chair around, being greeted with an unsteady gaze that did not want to look at him. Rodney grabbed him by the wrist.  
“Don’t touch me.” He commanded in a quiet hiss, body tense and eyes seeming like they hadn’t seen sleep in weeks.   
“Jesus christ. Haven’t you slept yet? It’s 6AM.”  
“Sleep- that’s, that’s not something I- I don’t need it. I can’t- that’s not something I need to do. I’m busy.”  
“Rodney, you’ve been called five times in succession. The phone is right next to your desk. Have you just been ignori-”  
“Lower your voice.” Rodney’s hand twitched slightly and he shoved Mello’s arm away. “You need to leave.”  
“I just got back from emergency surgery, Rodney,” Mello growled in annoyance, “because you wouldn’t pick up your damn phone. You’d better have a great excuse for this because you. Owe. Me.” He gripped Rodney by the shoulder again and pulled him out of his chair- but he didn’t stand or catch himself and it seemed like he maybe even couldn’t- stumbling forwards and falling onto his hands and knees as his glasses fell off and his forehead hit the floor. “--shit. Are you kidding? What is the matter with you?”  
“I told you- I don’t need to rest. I don’t need to sleep, or stop, I just need to keep focused. You can leave, right?”  
“I was visiting out of the goodness of my heart to make sure my best friend was okay. Doesn’t look like you are.”  
“First of all,” Rodney put back on and pushed up his glasses, sitting up and slowly helping himself to his feet, “I’m not your friend. And second,” he paused, glared up, “you need to leave. I’m fine. Now get out.” His voice cracked on the word ‘out’ and now it was quite apparent, red eyes and dark circles, tense, quite twitchy and unstable, unfocused, more easily provoked, if it were possible- this man had not slept in at least the last 48-hour period.   
“Okay, and here we go,” Mello grabbed Rodney by the hips, hoisting him over his shoulder effortlessly, turning off the lights and shutting the door with his foot.   
“Let go!” Rodney shrieked, kicking his stomach and slamming his fist into his shoulder blade. Jesus, he was really trying.  
“You need to sleep, Rod. You can do whatever it is you were doing tomorrow.”  
“No I can’t!”  
“I’m not letting you go, sorry. You don’t have a choice.” and soon enough he was dropped out of the air, onto his bed, as he coughed and stood up on the mattress, walking to the edge and almost jumping off before his arm was grabbed and he was yanked back down. “No. What’d I say.”  
“You don’t have that authority over me! I refuse!” He cried, starting to get worked up, and Mello was scared he might’ve actually triggered an active episode of anger. But, no, he was the type of frustrated you get when you can’t get your way and you’re ready to start crying. Mello laughed. The bridge of Rodney’s nose wrinkled in a grimace.   
“You bastard.” He spat, his voice quivering with aggravation, giving all his strength into trying to kick, push, slap Mello away. But his greatest efforts were barely anything compared to how Mello could grab his entire shoulder in one hand and shove him back down. Soon he didn’t have any fight left in him. But he was still wearing the same disgusted expression, panting, tense; he twitched when Mello’s hand reached up to touch his face. Or maybe it was a wince. “Don’t touch me, faggot.” Rodney kicked Mello in the stomach, and he laughed, which only made his cheeks go bright red and face catch on fire, “I said STOP!”  
“You look so cute when you’re angry. Aww.” He mocked, pinching Rodney’s cheek as he growled and balled his hands into fists. Ready to uppercut him straight in the jaw. “When was the last time you slept?” Mel asked in a serious voice. Rodney did not answer.   
“2… nights.” He answered about five minutes later, laying down with his hands folded and arms across his chest. Mello was laying next to him so he couldn’t leave.  
“Hmm?”  
“This was the third night in a row I planned to stay up- because--” He stopped himself.  
“Why? Because why?” Mello forced him to continue that statement,  
“I- I just--” Rodney couldn’t form the correct words. “I can’t? I can’t. I-”  
“It’s okay. Take it easy. You’ve probably got some kind of medicine that’ll make you sleepy. Any melatonin?”  
“I don’t know,” He confessed in a quiet, much more calm voice, “the only time I use any of the medicines I own is when I take my epilepsy medication or allergy medicine occasionally. Maybe I accidentally eat something wrong and have to get an epipen. But that’s really- all I use. I can’t really remember--”  
“Okay, jeez. No need to go on like it’s a crime scene. I’ll be right back.”  
And it happened to be a fortunate situation, Rodney had more than two cabinets full of over the counter medicines for emergencies of any kind. And within it was a non prescription sleep aid.   
“--take with a full stomach. If taken on an empty stomach, burns, ulcers, or bleeding may occur in minor amounts.” It read.  
“Jesus Christ what the hell do they make these out of..?” Mello mumbled under his breath, being hit, rather aggravatingly so, with the realization he now had to give Rodney what’d be basically a too-early breakfast in bed. Nice. There were certain things you'd only do for your best friend even after they called you a bastard, faggot, and told you to your face they don't consider you their friend at all.   
It took about ten minutes before Rodney came into the kitchen with the jacket Mello had left on the side of his bed draped around his shoulders like a cape. He froze. “Oh. There you are. I thought you left.” He said awkwardly, one hand gripping the opposite arm, “I just got-”  
“Nervous?”  
“Jittery.”  
“Hm.”  
“I- like I need to be up. I need to be doing something.” He tapped his foot repeatedly on the ground and breathed rather heavily, continuing to stand there and not notice Mello was cooking in his kitchen at 6:30AM. Rodney’s hands found their way to his pockets and he tried not to start doing anything embarrassing, as much as he wanted to sit down on the couch, grab his favorite gray blanket and rub the fabric against his palm- he was feel stupid doing that. Normal people don't do that. They sleep, and they definitely don't need to touch a blanket or click a pen or chew on something or snap their fingers or tap their foot or   
“Here.” Rodney had a plate shoved into his face, and as he stared awkwardly and took it in his hands, he was guided with Mello’s hand on his back, propelling him to walk forwards, he was soon sitting on the couch with his plate opposite to him on the coffee table. “what do you like to drink?”  
“I- what's this for?”  
“Drink?”  
“Ice water.” He stammered, staring down as his cheeks started turning pink. What was this all about? Why would- he-...?  
Mello poured out a water bottle into a glass cup and added ice, stirred it with a spoon until it condensed on the outside of the cup, and brought it over, placing it on a coaster. “Why haven't you eaten it yet? Do you not trust me? Think I poisoned you?”  
“Well,” Rodney tapped his fork on the side of the plate, cringed, and stopped. “Is this- are you doing this because-”  
“Here. When you're done eating take two of these and meet me in your room again.” Mello found it was hard to look at your best friend you did nothing more than give a pat on the back to after giving him breakfast. And a well made one too. He could've just gotten soup but decided instead to make French toast with the same recipe his mother used to use. He felt his face burn. That was embarrassing to think about now that he wasn't doing it and could reflect. God. Meet me in your room? That made it sound like they were going to have sex. Why would he say that? He wasn't interested in anyone, and if he was, it would definitely not be Rodney I-spend-half-the-time-I-talk-being-rude-and-sounding-like-the-biggest-narcissist-on-the-planet-and-trying-to-act-intimidating-because-I-think-I'm -so-cool-but-I'm-five-feet-tall-and-have-the-authority-of-a-3rd-grader Kapernick.   
“I'm here.” It took less than ten minutes for that short ugly man to sit back down on the edge of his bed where Mello was waiting, “you know I can sleep on my own, right? I don't want another dude in my bed.” Well, maybe he wasn't totally ugly. He was just the biggest nerd in the world. Someone only his mother would ever call handsome. Actually, that made Mello laugh and he had to look away. Rodney stared. “Goodbye, Mello. Thanks for stopping by.”  
“Yeah.” He smiled, “glad to see you.” He placed a hand on Rodney’s head, purposefully messing up his hair and leaving his bedroom.  
“--wait.” Rodney’s face grew hot. “Can you come over tomorrow morning? I’m not supposed to take anything I don't tell my pharmacist I am and I- Just make sure I’m not dead or anything.”  
“That'd mean I’d also have to take off of work. You seriously think I’d take off just to come and see you?”  
“Screw off, then.” He growled, feeling his face and neck catch on fire. He could hear him laugh from the other room and rage burned in the pit of his stomach.  
“Yeah, you'd totally be right. Night!”  
“W- wait-- what-- ? You- uh,” All the anger and embarrassment was gone as soon as it had come on. “What?”


End file.
